


Pass the Test

by olliya, victoriacapo



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:49:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olliya/pseuds/olliya, https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriacapo/pseuds/victoriacapo
Summary: You can live thinking that you love. But when true love breaks through the faded feelings generated by habit, it’s like an explosion. Sakura is very satisfied with her life. Successfully married and graduated from a teaching university, she has excellent references and gets a job in a prestigious institution in the capital. She even got lucky with her superiors - Uchiha Tajima takes good care of his employees. But it is his son, who is graduating this year, that is giving the young teacher a lot of trouble.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Madara, Very background Haruno Sakura/ Senju Tobirama
Comments: 18
Kudos: 79
Collections: MadaSaku





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by University AU MadaSaku developed by victoriacapo. Expect comedy and OOC-ness and nothing like my usual writing. I also wanted to use this opportunity to state that Victoria is entirely responsible for the creation of this fic!!! ;)

He had to retake the class. It was one of the formal requirements for completing his major and his father this summer made himself very clear that Madara should stop delaying the graduation.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do yet. So far, he enrolled into all the missing courses. He could still fail them, as he did several times before…

Madara was sitting at the back of the lecture hall, his legs against the wooden backs of the lower row. He didn’t put his feet directly on top, but his knees were high enough.

With a corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a girl walking down the aisle. Actually, not that much of the girl, as of her ridiculously pink hair. Madara straightened up. Was she some transfer or an exchange student? Or did one of the girls from his class dye her hair? He would have noticed a pink-haired chick on the campus!

With narrowed eyes he examined the rest of the girl. She had already passed by, heading to the lower rows, so he couldn’t see her face. But she was dressed in a very boring way – her baggy, dark grey dress was reminding him of a grandma. He craned his neck into the aisle – and the dress was finishing mid-calf? No way! Who dresses that way? Madara shook his head – to have the guts to dye your hair in such a shade and then to wear that potato sack?

She was heading towards the very center of the lecture hall – she must have been one of those hard-working ones, star-eyeing professors and writing down their every single word like a gospel. And then learning the notes by heart instead of actually using their brains and trying to understand the topic. Madara knew the type. Despite the bold statement of the hair, he decided he isn’t interested. Maybe her hair color was result of a lost bet?

Losing his interest, Madara took out his phone. The lecture was an obligatory-presence one, but there was no way he would be wasting his time on something that he principally found a violation of his dignity and freedom. And on top of that, the obligatory-presence rule appeared in the last minute! It wasn’t there when he was enrolling to the course! Apparently, the lecturer had changed and the new one had set up his rules as his favourite girl in the secretariat told him. She was a not a bad lay to begin with, and the fact that she was working with student files was making her worth Madara’s time.

Nevertheless, he felt played dirty and he only was considering if he would spend that hour-and-a-half playing online poker and earning some cash, or would he invest his time in making the lecturer’s first class a hell. Over the years he mastered the art of asking just the correct questions to push anyone out of balance.

He opened the poker app… He could always multitask. Not that either of the opponents was really worthy of his full attention.

With side of his eye he glimpsed downwards. And accidentally clicked on ‘check’ button even though it was just the beginning of the game. Shit – he just screwed up the first deal! Because the pink-haired chick was standing behind the reading desk.

“Good morning everyone. My name is Haruno Sakura and I will be teaching the course Basics of Tissue Engineering and its Application in Medicine.”

Her voice was so soft that he could barely hear it from where he was sitting. She had a smile plastered to her face, and Madara wasn’t sure where she was looking, but it sure seemed that not at the people in front of her. She just stared forwards, smiling mildly like some doll.

“Let’s talk about the groundworks of organization, shall we?” the girl continued. “The lecture will take place twice a week, on Tuesdays 09 a.m. to 10:30 a.m., and Thursdays 02:30 p.m. to 04:00 p.m. The presence on the lectures is obligatory, and I would ask you to put your signature next to your name on this list.” She handed a sheet of paper to a guy in the first row, “Would you be so kind to pass it further,” she said to him. “The absences can be excused with a doctor’s certificate. Otherwise for every absence you will be given an individual assignment that you will need to hand in for the next lecture. And yes, it means that an absence on a Tuesday lecture will require you to hand in the ready assignment on the Thursday’s one. Failing to bring the assignment for the next lecture will result with crossing you out from the participants list.”

Madara couldn’t believe his own ears. What a cheek! He had never heard about such a restrictive policy! Usually, a professor never cared whether you attended or not. You needed to show up for the exam and pass it, and that was it. Very much to Madara’s liking – he didn’t need some fools to try to ‘teach’ him. He could do it on his own, and much better, thank you very much.

And this little cunt… Who did she thing she was? Came here, obviously first semester at this uni, heck, from the looks of it probably freshly after college herself, and she was thinking she could dictate the rules?

“As for the final exam, it will consist of three parts..”

“Excuse me, professor Haruno,” interrupted Madara raising his hand, “I have a question about the absences.”

“Yes?”

“How would a following case be considered: If one is absent from the lecture, and is sick, with medical certificate during the next one?”

“Then this person should provide the assignment on the first lecture he or she will be able to attend health-wise.”

“And what if one falls sick immediately after being absent from the lecture and is unable to receive the assignment?”

“Then it is in this person’s best interest to get in contact with me through whatever means possible. I will be providing you with my email…”

“And what if one brings the assignment for the lecture, but doesn’t join it?”

Pink-haired chick blinked at him in confusion. Her mouth opened slightly but no words came out. Madara smirked.

“Let’s all be reasonable here and remember that you are all here to _learn_ …” Pink-haired little bitch gathered her wits and produced a sickeningly sweet smile. Madara hated the way she pronounced the word ‘learn’ – as if it was sacrosanct.

He spent the remainder of the lecture playing poker. He _annihilated_ some three morons and took all their money. He was quite sure that one of them was actually a teenager accessing the gaming room with his parents’ credit card, but he didn’t care.

The pink-haired bitch went on rambling about the history of medical engineering, through those pathetic first attempts of humanity to somehow improve its fate. It was embarrassing how low they crawled and for how long, and Madara was regretting that he had such a divisible attention. Half way through the lecture he took out his headphones and put on some music to tune the lecture out.

After the hour-and-a-half of utter boredom and wasted time was finished, he decided to take a better look at the pink bitch. With his bag slung over his shoulder he strode down to the middle of the auditorium. The little bitch was there, gathering her papers, bent over the table, with her back to him. He propped himself against the wall and waited.

Even despite that baggy dress one could see she had a nice ass. Firm and round. Wonder how did they tits look like, but that would be much harder to tell given her dress-style.

She turned. First thing he noticed was a buttoned-up white shirt she wore under the dress. Madara almost rolled his eyes. But he didn’t. Because he lay his eyes on her face.

Greenest eyes he’d ever seen. High cheekbones, small nose, round face-oval of an almost-child. Plump lips, so kissable that he just had to imagine how would they feel against his. And pink eyelashes and eyebrows. Pink. Meaning her hair wasn’t dyed. What the fuck.

The girl slid her eyes across him, smiling pleasantly, no trace of recognition in her expression. Didn’t she remember that he was trying to pin her and her stupid rules down at the beginning of the lecture? She smiled once again and nodded politely, passing him by. Oh, he will make her drop that doll-like expression, one way or another. Madara could already imagine couple of pretty fun ways of pushing her out of balance…

A strand of pink hair fell forwards to her forehead and when she tucked it back something shone of her finger. Madara narrowed his eyes – a wedding ring.

She passed by him completely unperturbed and he couldn’t stop staring. He wasn’t even ogling her ass. _‘Married?’_ he couldn’t stop wondering. _‘At that age?’_ Sure, she must have been older than him since she was a lecturer already, but she looked almost like a teenager… And women in academia married late, in their forties, if at all.

Well, that sounded like a challenge…

* * *

Art by victoriacapo that started it all:


	2. Chapter 2

During the next lecture he sat in the third row from the front. His entire university career long, he had never sat so close. Madara told himself that it was just to get a better overview of the situation. The lecture turned out to be as uninteresting as he expected. But the little bitch was oddly entertaining to look at. She had a very expressive face, and it was a new kind of challenge to undress with his eyes a chick so restrictively dressed. Madara’s imagination was put into work and he was discovering that he was enjoying it.

He was planning to pin her down with the questions that would expose the gaps in the logics of her lecture, but there wasn’t much to draw a wedge into. The flow of her lecture was pretty flawless. Only in the end, when she went into the societal importance of bioengineering of organs for transplantation, Madara saw his opening.

“Excuse me, professor Haruno,” Madara raised his hand. “I have a question.”

“Yes?” she said with that pleasant, artificial smile.

“I was wondering about the social demand you were mentioning, about the number of people dying because the waiting lines for transplants are too long. Instead of investing the energy into developing organ-engineering technologies which are apparently still decades in the future and will be affordable only to the privileged layers of society, wouldn’t it be more efficient to normalize the trade of organs? Open the market for people who are willing to sell their body parts. For fair prize, of course. This market exists anyhow, only that now it’s a black one. All would benefit – the recipients as well as the donors that would be receive appropriate financial compensation within the safety of a system.”

“The solution you’re proposing could possibly work for some organs, like kidneys, skin grafts, maybe with the enough technological progress livers, but most of the organs are essential and removing them would equal to death to the donor so obviously no one would consider…”

“Yet, given the situation of many people in the world,” interrupted Madara, “I’m sure there would be many quite ready to _consider_ sacrificing their lives for better futures of their families. I find it wrong to deny them such an opportunity.”

“Are you talking about euthanasia for the purpose of organ harvesting??!! That’s… That’s… outrageous! That is absolutely unethical!!!”

“Only according to the ethics of today. Ethics is bound to change like all elements of societal structure…” Madara allowed himself some smugness in arching his eyebrow.

The pink bitch gaped on him like a fish taken out of the water. Score.

“Those are problems and issues that completely exceed the scope of this course. We are here to discuss the new horizons and new possibilities. Not to dwell on… on these highly questionable ideas that I surely hope will never see the light of day.”

Madara didn’t suppress the smirk of victory. He won this round, and the little bitch knew that as well.

Nevertheless, when she passed by him on the corridor heading to the lecture hall two days later, no trace of recognition was on her face. Her eyes swiped across his face as if he was a complete stranger, as if he was just another person on a street... She didn’t make eye contact; she didn’t show any signs of displeasure. Heck, she didn’t even smile, as unnerving as her pretentiously well-behaved smiles were.

She disappeared inside the lecture hall and Madara still stood there blinking in disbelief.

He was so put off by that incident that he didn’t manage to come up with a single nasty question the entire lecture long. Irrationally irritated he chose a longer way home, taking the highway and driving muuuch too fast. He might have got caught by a radar in the tunnel next to the southern interchange where he exceeded the speed by good 40 kilometers per hour, but he didn’t care.

Came the next week and Madara mostly forgot that frustrating episode. Mostly. He actually decided that he would sit somewhere in the top rows and watch a movie or something during the next lecture. But the fate had different plans. He was leaning against the window pane waiting for the previous class to vacate the hall. It was a hot day, for sure one of the last hot ones this year and since the university had the heating switched on already, it all combined to a positively tropical atmosphere indoors. Madara didn’t even want to imagine how ‘cozy’ it will be in the lecture hall if they had to take the class directly after the previous one was finished. He rolled up the sleeves and unbuttoned four top buttons of his shirt. He was still sweating. He hated it.

He just got up from his place on the window and turned to get to the yard, find some shade and hopefully cool a bit down when he almost walked into the pink little bitch.

She was standing holding her tablet and a pen and looking up at him.

“Who is your class president?” she asked. “I would need to talk to him or her…”

“That’s me.” Subconsciously Madara straightened up a bit more. And immediately mentally berated himself for that. What was he even doing? “My name is Uchiha Madara.”

Haruno Sakura taxed him up and down with her eyes. It was a skeptical look, but at least she took notice of him, Madara concluded.

“What is with your appearance?” she asked with a sour expression on her face. Madara’s jaw dropped. That was _not_ what he wanted to hear. “Where is your uniform? As a class president you should stand as an example for the others Mr. Uhiha.”

In retrospect Madara was sure he turned very red just then. And he truly hoped she didn’t notice. Which she probably didn’t - at least her obliviousness turned out to be good for something for once. Still, he couldn’t believe his own ears: not only did she berate him as if he was a child, but also she blatantly mispronounced his name! Was it intentional? Was she trying to rile him up? No one, literally no one in the world was so dense to hear the name of the owner of the company that one was working at and then mispronounce it in the next sentence!

Whether she noticed his agitation or not, she smoothly ignored it and went on. “Unfortunately, the lectures next week cannot take place due to University’s Open Doors Day and later due to a conference that I’m attending, therefore I would ask you to copy and distribute these,” she handed him a pile of papers, “among your classmates.”

Madara automatically accepted the papers – they were so many that they started to slide out of his hands. Meanwhile, Haruno Sakura fished out one sheet from the armful he was trying to conquer and tapped her finger against a large drawing occupying half of the page.

“On every handout there are schematic drawings of various tissues that I would like the students to color, so you have to pay attention to the quality of the copies. Please do go to place that guarantees certain level of service…”

Madara blinked. “Excuse me professor Haruno but am I understanding correctly? You want us to color those schemes?” What was she thinking? That it was a kindergarten?!

The little bitch beamed at him. “Yes! Preferably with crayons. I find it a fantastic way of internalizing and consolidating the knowledge. You will be stunned by the results, Mr. Uhiha.”

* * *

Victoriacapo's art that was the basis of this chapter:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please tell us what you think!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

He sat in the fourth row during the next class. He kind of wanted to ask some questions, and sure nasty ones did come to his mind, but he had a hunch they wouldn’t get him the kind of attention that he wanted. Or in fact, any kind of attention, because she seemed to be resistant to malicious teasing.

He found himself going through the class’ syllabus on Saturday evening. It was because he had nothing better to do, Madara told to himself. Next lecture was supposed to be about scaffolds. He read through the topics, all neatly catalogued and arranged. At the end of the section – a literature list. He really didn’t have anything to do, he told himself later. And he didn’t feel like sleeping, he woke up at one thirty today after partying all night, and opted out of going to another one this evening. Madara really wasn’t sleepy at all, so he could as well take a look. Five hours and several review papers later, he was ripped out from the middle of quite interesting article – an experimental one, because after four reviews Madara got bored with them repeating things he already learnt – by footsteps of Izuna coming back from his party. Judging from the sluggish steps of his younger brother the party was a good one. Madara looked at the watch: 02:17 am only. Well, maybe Izuna’s party wasn’t _that_ good. But more importantly: what the fuck? Did he just allocate such amount of his precious time to _studying_? Appalled, Madara flung himself on the bed and took out his phone. He still wasn’t sleepy, but no way he would spend more time studying. He never did that! He sure wouldn’t start at his last year!

He had an image to keep. It was a mental image mostly, but still. His own opinion was anyhow the only one that mattered to Madara.

During the next class he sat in the second row. And when she started to talk about polymer composition of the scaffolds, he had questions. About the exchange rate of calcium ions for natrium ions in alginate scaffolds – because it properly fascinated him how can a hard structure become soft again through such a simplistic mechanism. She didn’t quite know the answer, and tried relativizing the issue saying that it depended on design and exact location of the graft. But Madara could see that she was pleased with the question. She even told him that she would check it. Not that he was _really_ interested.

But the fact that he finally got a reaction, saw sparks in her eyes made him follow up with another question - about the influence of such huge deposit bio-available calcium on patient’s status. That one prompted her to pause, put a fingernail between her teeth (Madara, despite of himself, found it strangely endearing) and answer that she really needed to check the actual amounts used in clinical practice, because, as she said, in severe cases hypercalcemia might even lead to cardiac arrest.

He liked the glimmer in her eyes, he had to admit it. Even if the admission was a very reluctant one.

* * *

He saw her when she was leaving through the main entrance, walking in the direction of nearest metro station along with last few students that had stayed in up to this hour. She was holding an entire armful of papers and while walking tried to sort something out of this bundle. And to balance a handbag on her other arm. That all made her progress so slow that Madara managed to walk the parking lot, get into the car and drive around the building in the time that took her to reach half way along the campus fence.

So absorbed she was in her reading by then that she must have failed to notice heavy rainclouds. Only when the first drops hit her precious reading material she realized and scrambled, trying to protect the papers from imminent damage. And she started to run. Astonishingly fast.

By the time he reached her she was drenched

Madara lowered the passenger window and slowed down to zero. “Do you need a ride?” he leaned so that she could see him from the inside of the car.

She took a moment to refocus, and another one apparently to recognize him. Madara bit down a curse. He knew he didn’t exactly blend in into the crowd and it irked him to no end that nevertheless for her he was just another face out of hundreds.

“Uhm, well, uhm, no-thank-you.” She delivered a swift refusal and continue to pace briskly in direction of the station.

“But I insist.”

He not only stopped completely but also turned the engine off, left the car, walked around it and opened the door for her. He never ever did it to anyone. Now she had to enter.

It was worth it. She did - automatisms prevailed.

Madara started the engine. She was sitting stiffly, her knees so close to one another that she would have bruises tomorrow. Spine straight, the handbag on her lap, a protective barrier raised by the pile of papers and folders pressed to her chest. And she was staring stubbornly through the window.

“So, how was your day?” he attempted to break the silence. “Aside of this downpour ruining the end of it?”

“Oh, nothing spectacular.” Pause. Not a pause. The end of freaking statement.

“Any other classes today?” tried Madara.

“No.”

Ok, that was borderline rude. She was much more talkative during the classes. What was wrong with her? As they were just waiting for the lights to change, Madara turned his head to take a better look. Only now he noticed that her white blouse was drenched to the point of near-transparency. Oh. Maybe it was making her so defensive. Either the way - nice tits. Small but nice. He really would like to admire the view a bit longer but he was supposed to be driving, and that with a passenger. And he would rather that she relaxed a bit more in his presence and staring never helped.

“And how was the conference last week?” Madara gave another try. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he was so friendly to anyone.

“Very interesting.”

Holy shit. Either she had conversation skills of a handbag or she was deliberately giving him a cold shoulder. Must be the latter. She was too intelligent for such a lack of skills.

Impossibly irritated he turned the music to the max. The glass of the windows shook from the bass.

Sakura jerked.

“Can you please turn the volume down!” she shouted as the chorus of ‘Closer’ of Nine Inch Nails exploded from the speakers.

“Why?!” he shouted back. “So you want to have a conversation now?”

She gave him a look of a cornered squirrel. She glimpsed between the audio-unit, him, and audio-unit again, clearly not seeing any favorable way out of the situation. “Uhm, well, the only thing we can talk about is strictly school-related…”

It seemed that she found talking to him preferable to listening to the ‘I wanna fuck you like an animal’ that had sounded from the speakers ten seconds earlier. Madara distinctively remembered how huge her eyes had gone upon her hearing the word ‘fuck’.

“Why only strictly school related?” he asked turning the music down. On the second thought, he didn’t need that music now. He turned it off. “That’s the least interesting topic I can think of now.”

She gave him a shocked look. So shocked that it challenged her reaction to the f-word. “The least interesting?” she echoed. “I was under impression that you are very engaged in your studies?”

Madara stretched his hands further on the steering wheel. Oh, so she had impressions about him, that was already something. Not exactly the impression reflecting the reality in any form or way, but that was a start. And it seemed that in that peculiar worldview of hers it was a favorable one. How should he maneuver in this situation?

“I like keeping my duties and my free time separate. We’re outside the campus, outside the class times so I’d rather not talk about studies...”

“I don’t think we will have many topics in such a case…” she murmured fiddling with the lock of her purse.

“Why? Any two people can find a common topic… Multiple ones in fact…”

“Uhm, I wouldn’t really know about that…” she trailed off but she seemed to be a bit more at ease now.

Madara smirked. “Oh, come on Ms. Haruno, surely there are some things in your life other than science and teaching?”

He barely registered her astonished look as another car took a sharp turn into his lane and Madara had to hit the brakes. He hoped it was smooth enough. “Because,” he continued to steer her attention away from that small driving blunder, “everyone does _something_ in their free time…”

“I don’t see it this way Mr. Uhiha, my work is my vocation, so I don’t really think about my time at home as time free from work… And I don’t want to, I’m always just so enticed with whatever the current project is, enamoured one could even say, that I cannot stop thinking about it..”

Madara suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“No hobbies? No pastimes?”

“Uhm… I like gardening… somewhat...” she uttered in the end looking at her lap.

“Any pastimes with your husband?”

“What a strange question.” She shot him a wary look and bristled once again. What to do – it was a topic Madara simply had to poke, if just a little bit. “Oh. That’s my station,” she said quickly. “Thank you for the ride, that was very kind of you.”

“My pleasure,” replied Madara but she probably didn’t hear it, so fast she was gone.

* * *

Madara had no real business with his father that day. Not that he had much business with him on any other day. Honestly, he was rather on a permanent avoidance course. So, that day, he was going to the secretariat to ask his favourite girl out. She needed some pampering, last time he passed her in the hall Mei threw him a dirty look and pouted. A quick drink and a quick fuck in the back of his car would suffice to pacify her for next couple of weeks. And he fully expected the fuck to be a good one.

Bad luck had it that he took the corridor from which he could see inside of his father’s office. A distinctive, unmistakable shade of pink stood out between the heavy browns of the furniture. Madara came up to the window. His father and the new teacher were sitting on the same side of the desk. Already that plucked a wrong vein in Madara. All the clients, employees, business partners, collaborators and such always sat in the guest chair in front of the desk. Like they would in every other freaking office of every other freaking boss.

And the little pink mouse must had dragged the guest chair to the other side of the table. And now they were sitting, leaning over something Madara couldn’t see, their heads almost in contact. Madara’s nostrils flared. From how she was sitting, there was no way that their knees wouldn’t be touching as well.

Pinky leaned back and gesticulated in an animated way, the tilt of her head and minute jolts she did on the chair speaking of excitement. She obviously felt completely comfortable in his father’s presence!

The busty red-head forgotten, Madara marched straight into his father’s office.

He hated the way his father and that pink-haired thing jumped away from each other.

“Mister Uhiha!” It was her who called out to him. “What kind of behavior is that? How can you walk into the director’s office like this? Or are you so confused that you’ve mixed up the doors?”

Madara ignored her and her pink-colored outrage.

“Can I have a word with you?” He didn’t quite think through what was would be his excuse for this intrusion. Now he had to think on his toes. Ach, he got a good one – yesterday he had crashed one his father’s cars. Not much, and he had it hauled to the repair already. But still. It would be awfully out of character to actively admit it to his father though, but maybe he could get some ‘good behavior points’ and bake two roasts on the same fire.

But sure as hell he wouldn’t be talking about it in front of the pinky. That wouldn’t do if she started to take him for a bad driver. He sure hoped to give her a ride again some time in near future.

And, most importantly he wanted to remove her from the immediate vicinity of his father. Their elbows were touching for god’s sake!!!!

“I am having a meeting. Would you be so kind and leave?” Tajima’s voice was calm but Madara knew him too well. His father was furious. Madara clearly interrupted him when he didn’t want to be interrupted. Madara suppressed a smirk.

Well, it wouldn’t harm to drive the nail deep. “When you finish the _meeting_ with young teacher, give me a call.”

He turned, and not looking back marched towards the door. He would skip that drink with Mei and proceed directly to the second point of the program. He really needed to get some stuff out of his system.

He was just opening the door when he heard a muted: ‘Please do excuse my son’s behavior,’ followed by a long silence. Madara turned only to be faced with the bereaved look in the green eyes, eyes larger than he had ever seen.

Those eyes were going to hunt him now, he knew it already.

Shit. When was Mei finishing her shift?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art is coming very soon!  
> Please tell us what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and please tell us what you think!!


End file.
